


this ain't no place for no hero (this ain't no place for no better man)

by Dabberdees



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 13 and Yaz (And Dan) will make their present known in the future, Emotional Manipulation, Enemies to Enemies, Gen, Graham: Shocked pikachu face, Master: I befriended your mother in those 70 years, Post-Episode: Revolution of the Daleks, Self-Destruction, spooky man dressed in black, the master and graham both have bastard energy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-27 17:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dabberdees/pseuds/Dabberdees
Summary: The Doctor makes it so easy to borrow their friends when they're done with them, and really, they have so many, surely they won't miss one when he goes missing?
Relationships: The Master & Graham O'Brien, The Master (Dhawan) & Graham O'Brien
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so like, i have had this idea for ages that has gone through SO MANY iterations, a friend can attest to that, but i have the down now ;)
> 
> also, thanks to Taka who helped me with a lot of Master ideas because this is my first major time writing them! :)

Why is it always him? It quite possibly seems he can't go anywhere without something happening to him, and really, this sort of stuff should've stopped since he left the TARDIS, but no, here he is, staring up at the ceiling of a ship if he had to guess.

Graham audibly groans and bites down on his tongue to keep his complaining in check while he tries to figure this out. He rests his hands upon the cold metal ground and feels the vibrations running under the floor. 

Which means he was correct. 

This is a ship. 

A ship he shouldn't be on, considering he was on his way home from a poker night at Gabe's. Well, Graham supposes he could've taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up with ET and his friends. As long as there aren't any Alien's and chestbursters, then he's happy. He doesn't much fancy becoming a raging beast intent on ending human lives.

There's a niggling thought in the back of Graham's head telling him that he should get up and walk around instead of thinking about films, do Doctor things like try and figure out where the hell he is, but, well, he aches. His back is protesting any sort of movement. Still, he'll have to get up at some point as much as he doesn't want to.

Graham sighs and swears under his breath, no time like the present, right? He sits up with an irritable expression upon his lined face and folds his arms across his chest, sitting there like a petulant child who has been told that they can't have biccies before dinner. If whatever took him wants to talk to him, then they can come here and talk to him. Why should he waste energy walking around a creepy ship trying to find the bastard in charge?

Although the Doc wouldn't be doing this, neither would Yaz or Ryan, and yeah, they might not be here right now, but he is really letting the team down by sitting on his backside doing nothing. "Right," Graham shouts to no one. He slaps his hands down on his thighs and hauls himself up with a grunt. "I dunno what you expect me to do-" He flicks his eyes up and down the corridors, narrowing them when one of the hallways light up, almost beckoning down it. "-Nah, that's just a coincidence." He mutters to himself as he takes a cautious step down it, tiptoeing like he fully expects a trap to go off like in one of those films he could never watch. Far too gory for Graham, he'll stick to Call the Midwife and Coronation Street, thank you very much.

Now, that's much more his pace—nothing quite like a plate of biccies after dinner and good old Coronation Street to watch.

His eyes travel across the corridor walls while he thinks about television; it's not like looking at the walls actually help him, 'cos it shows him nout that would be helpful. Not that he could tell anyway, it could be a TARDIS, or it could be some other blasted thing, maybe even a Cyberdude ship; they like silver, don't they? Mind you, he realises he's asking questions to himself, but what else is he meant to do? Get freaked out? That ain't gonna help him, not one bit.

Graham rubs his clammy hands against his trousers because as much as he is putting on a brave face, acting tough for whoever is in charge of this ship, he is worried. Who wouldn't be? He has no one to fall back on, and this was a surprise; it totally caught him off guard after a fun night of poker with his mates.

But maybe it's Jack? He scooped him before; perhaps he did it again? But if that was the case, then why didn't he just send a text message or something? They stay in contact; it's just that simple.

He spies a door ahead and inches forward, stopping just outside and glancing all across it. There doesn't seem to be any indication of a lever or switch to open it, so what is he meant to do? Stand here like a lemon and wait?

He could, but something tells him he's not here to do that.

Thankfully, the conundrum is answered for him quite quickly because the door swishes open, revealing a grand control room. Button and switches line the walls, and in the middle, there is a seat facing the viewing windows.

But none of that catches Graham's eyes because his face is lit up in orange and red, swirling and throughout the room, hitting each corner and sending shadows out at odd angles.

Graham's mouth opens and closes; his words die in his throat because what he's staring at in horror reminds him of something he saw less than a year ago.

Gallifrey.

But that's impossible, he's not there, no, this is something else, something equally horren-

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A voice whispers almost reverently, yanking Graham from his horror and snapping him back to reality. "The burning of a planet, filled with life, snuffed out so quickly," It turns into a sneer. "And pathetically, for such a warrior race, they really did fail spectacularly to one vengeful man with an exploited grudge."

Graham's blood runs cold because he knows that voice, heard it when it was nervous and kind, and then within a blink of an eye, it transformed into something else, chilling, the type of voice that would worry the strongest person.

And it did.

He watched the expression on the Doctor's face switch in a flash, felt the fear and apprehension in her voice as she spoke to him.

"Come on," The chair swivels around, and Graham comes face to face with his captor. "You always ran the running commentary before; why not now?" The owner tilts his head towards the side and laughs. "Come on, human number one, talk to me; we're just a couple of people with a friend in common, well, I say friend, I mean enemy, but that's semantics, you know?" His hands wave as he speaks, gesturing wildly.

"What the-" Graham steps back, feet already putting him on the retreat. "Nah, the Doc-"

"No-" The Master snaps, leaning forward dangerously, forcing Graham to clamp his mouth shut. His hair flicks down onto his face, unkempt, furthering the shadows under his eyes. "-She's not here, course, I would've liked to grab her because we never did finish our chat back home, but-" He smiles and claps his hands together. "-But I got one of her little human pets instead, would've preferred the other one, not the boy, the girl, the Doc always did like earth girls, she'd be right here if I had her instead, but I got you, and she's not," He lets out a small laugh. "Shows how much she cares for you."

Graham snuffles on his feet, and he tries to stealthily glance behind himself, judging whether he could make it down the corridor before the Master aimed his shrinking ray thingy at him.

Yeah, that's not going to happen; not even Yaz could make it in time.

Graham turns back to the Master again, hands becoming clammy once more. "Why did you kidnap me?"

"No, no, no, kidnap is such a strong word," The Master frowns at Graham, his brows screwed together like he's thinking. "I prefer borrowed without the intention of giving back," He shrugs, hands adding towards the movement. "The Doctor wasn't using you anymore; they always did throw away their toys after they were done with them; you were free for the taking, you and that other one, Ronald? Richard? Reggie?"

"Ryan."

The Master points at Graham. "Yes, Ryan!" His hands wave through the air. "I knew it was something like that, you humans have such-" His face looks disgusted, and he sticks his tongue out, grunting his displeasure. "-simple names, boring."

Graham feels sick at the prospect of Ryan being here. He steps forward, dragging up any courage he can muster. "Where is Ryan?" He finds himself demanding, his agitation for himself transforming into anxiety for Ryan. 

"Steady on, grandad," The Master cocks an eyebrow at Graham and laughs, grinning like a human-shaped aubergine. "He was fun to have around, but then I grew bored, and things happened, fun things-"

Graham's eyes widen, and anger bubbles under his skin. "What have you done with him?!"

"What do you think I did with him?" The Master counters with a wicked grin. "I could've killed him, converted him, tortured him, or even-" His voice cuts away when Graham latches his hands on his purple suit jacket. "-Oooh, you're feisty, the Doctor likes them feisty, but they don't usually go for-"

"Where is Ryan?" Graham snaps, beyond caring that he's putting himself at risk right now. "If you've hurt him, I'll kill you-"

That grabs the Master's attention, judging by the look on his face, but it soon fades into anger, and before Graham can react, he finds himself kneeling on the floor with an arm around his throat. "Would you really kill me?"

Graham struggles in the Masters stronger grip. "Get off me!"

"Answer me," The Master tightens his arm around Graham's neck, but he leaves enough room for him to breathe.

Graham ceases his struggling, and the Master lets him go. He scrambles away and glares at the rogue Time Lord, nostrils flared and fingers pressing crescent moon shaped into his palms. "If you've hurt Ryan, there would be no one to stop me from attempting to kill you."

"Now, now, the Doctor wouldn't agree to that-"

"She's not here, is she?" Graham spits in anger. "You said that yourself," He breathes heavily. "She's not here to stop me or judge me, and I'd be doing her a favour anyway after what you did to your home," If this gets him killed, then so be it. "I've seen Earth destroyed in my future, and you did that to your own home-"

"You don't know anything."

"I know you're a lunatic," Graham fires back at the Master. "Kill me if you're going to kill me, 'cos I doubt I'm gonna get off your ship myself, and I know for damn certain that I ain't gonna give the Doc up to you, so this is a waste of time."

The Master hums in entertainment.

"I'm serious," Graham presses on, growing confidence outwards even though on the inside, he's scared. "I've lived with pain before, and I'll do it again for them; I won't tell you anything."

"I think I read you wrong," The Master muses, one hand pressed to his chin in thought, voice showing he shows zero concern for Graham or his threats. "Your boy," The Master grabs Graham's undivided attention at the mention of that name. "He's fine, back on Earth, none the wiser that you're no longer there."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't," The Master shrugs. "But that doesn't matter; you won't be going back to Earth, at least not for a long time, not until I can-" He trails off and locks his eyes on Graham. His fingers tap against his temples. "-oh, you nearly spoiled your plans there, Master, don't want to let on what you want to do with the human."

Graham's glare turns to confusion while his anger simmers gently away. "What are you talking-" He trails off, realising that he won't get any answers from the lunatic in front of him. "-why am I here? You never answered."

"I was bored and had this incredible idea," The Master slumps back into his throne and begins tapping a sequence of four pats against the armrest. He lays one leg over the other. "And you-" He taps his head in the same rhythm. "-have something I'm interested in, not the mush you call a brain, but what is buried somewhere within it."

Graham's eyes narrow at the Master. "Did you just kidnap me, to insult me?"

"Oh, don't give me that look; it does not suit your face," The Master swivels back towards the burning planet. "But, I'll give you this; you'll like what I have planned," His eyes focus on the fire. "Considering you-" His voice tapers off, eyes narrowed in thought, eyes swirling with amber. "-not important."

Graham edges forward and glances towards the Master; the ocherous glow on his face makes him look like one of the bad guys from his favourite movies, only Graham is very much not James Bond, and he doubts he'll manage to save the day by himself. "I don't think I will, stubborn as an Ox; I am, might as well give up now."

The Master shows no intention that he's even listening to Graham. "You weren't my first choice."

"You said that."

"You're dim, slow," The Master stares at Graham, mouth turned into dislike. "Annoying, pointing out the obvious, needing to whittle on like all the other lesser species," He practically grimaces and shudders, mouth pulling back like he's sucking on a lemon. "How do you cope living like that?"

Graham raises an eyebrow at the Master. "I've managed so far."

"Pity."

Graham bristles at the insults. "Why don't you just get on with it?!"

"No flair for games," The Master pouts. "Fine, you're frustratingly useful, happy?" He spits out like it's causing him physical pain to do so. "I've done a bit of digging into your lives, all of your lives," His fingers tap against one of the armrests, and Graham quickly finds his attention brought to a display screen that has just appeared across some of the consoles. He frowns at it, reading information about his, Ryan, and Yaz's lives; it's disconcerting, to say the least, that the Master has this on them. "It was during that seventy years," He informs Graham. "I considered killing the three of you while I was stuck but decided against it; who was to say what would happen? I needed it to go as smoothly as possible."

"Is this going anywhere?" Graham asks, pushing boredom into his voice. It's not convincing in any sense of the word, but at least he tried.

"Humans live such short lives; I forget that you only have a limited number of years; I will try to go as fast as I can," The Master digs at Graham. "Fine, fine," His hands clap together jarringly. "I looked into you and the other two, but you're older; there was far more to see and do and befriend-"

"What?"

"Richard and Miriam O'Brien," The Master smiles gleefully when he notices the look of shock on Graham's face. "Miriam was lovely, always offering cups of tea, shame about the cancer, in the end, she left a son and a husband, much use that he was," If Graham thought about it, he could imagine O talking to him again, reminiscing about the past, only this is horrifying because he shouldn't know this at all. "You were just a small, defenceless thing, disgusting really, and your mother, before she died, she was just too trusting-"

"Don't talk about my mother like you know her," Graham steps forward with rage running free on his face. "You don't get to talk about her!"

"Ooooh, struck a nerve have I?" The Master finally looks at Graham, and there is a glint in his eye. "Anyway, your mother, she needed to go out, something about her friend needing help, and your father, he was at the pub, useless layabout, nearly killed him myself, would've done Miriam a favour," He keeps his eyes on Graham's face, enjoying the expression there, savouring it. "Maybe she would've asked me to adopt you when she snuffed it-"

Graham jumps forward, catching the Master by surprise because he moved quickly for a man of his age, but it's not enough; a human life of television and driving buses doesn't match up to that of a Time Lord and Graham find himself quickly knocked back to the floor, pain spreading across his jaw. He swallows thickly because the Master shouldn't know about that; not even Ryan knows about his less than happy childhood. He scrambles away from the Master and rubs his face.

"I'm sorry," The Master voice switches to fake concern. "She was a dear friend to her."

"Funny way of showing it," Graham murmurs under his breath. "Why are you doing this? I haven't done anything to you; I stopped travelling with the Doc-"

"You travelled with her," The Master answers in a level voice. "That's enough for me."

Graham stares at the man in front of him; his jaw still aches from the punch.

"Your mother."

"What about her?" Graham grunts in distaste.

"She asked if I could watch you for the day; I couldn't say no to her, could I? She asked a few times after that, each time trusting me to look after you." The Master stands again and approaches Graham, eyes observing the man in front of him. "It was so simple, and I was always so good at mind games," he exhales. "And you were just a child, hardly something that could resist the suggestions of a Time Lord, something better than you were."

"What did you do to me?"

"Nothing, let you watch television, observed you," The Master reaches forward and jabs Graham in the forehead. "How scared are you?"

"Well," Graham swallows. "I'm not gonna lie; I'm pretty damn scared, but you don't need me to say that, do you?"

"No, I don't," The Master glances away for a moment. "Sorry for hitting you, natural response, you see?" He offers a hand to Graham, scowling when it's knocked to the side. "I'm trying to help you up, old man."

Graham shrugs the Master's hand away again and pulls himself up. "I ain't accepting any help from you."

The Master rolls his eyes. "Don't make this harder than I want it to be," He turns away from Graham without care. "I could make you do what I want, but where is the fun in that?" He glances back. "It's easy and boring, and I don't want easy and boring-" His hands flies out and points at the window. "-that's easy and boring-" Graham looks towards the burning planet. "-and once you've destroyed one planet, it really loses its magic when you destroy another."

"You're talking about destroying a world with people-"

"So?"

"So?" Graham's eyes widen in horror. "You're no better than the bleeding empire from Star Wars, and that's a film; I can't believe there is someone that exists that could do that-"

"The Doctor has," The Master states. "And there are more people than you know who would do the same, look into yourself, find the right reason, and even you would-" He snaps his fingers and motions something exploding. "-do it."

Graham snaps his head to the Master. "Oh, don't be ridiculous; you're trying to worm your way into my head with your lies and nonsense," His anger brims once again. "And the Doc, she's nothing like you."

"I've known them for far longer than you have," The Master spits. "You are nothing, a fleeting moment of their life, but I'm not, and I know what they have done."

Graham tightens his hands into fists; blunt fingernails dig into his palms. He clamps his jaw painfully shut as he stares at the madman in front of him. 

What has the Master got to gain from lying?

It's a question that runs through Graham's mind because surely, none of this is true? The Doc wouldn't, she has her rules, and she follows them.

But- She said it herself, her rules change all the time.

No, he needs to change the subject; think about something else right about now.

The glow from the glass catches his attention.

"How many people lived on it?" Graham murmurs as he walks closer to the window, eyes squinting shut at the brightness for a moment. He stares at the raging inferno, finds its beckoning flame hard to resist. "It had to have people on it, right?"

The Master joins Graham by the glass, hands in his pockets. "I didn't check."

"You didn't check," Graham repeats, sickened at the callousness of it all. "You just-" He looks at the Master. "Why? Why would you do this?"

"Why not?" The Masters with his hands in his pockets. "The Doctor has, why can't I? Although-"

"What?"

The Master side-eyes Graham. "What if I didn't do this? It could be the Doctor who did it, or someone else close to you," His head tilts, and he observes Graham with a curious gleam in his eye. "Someone you know quite well."

Graham turns from the Master and stares into the middle distance, blue eyes tinted orange from the glow in front of him. "You're lying; it's what you do; you want to trick me or something 'cos the Doc wouldn't do this, no one that I know would 'cos they are on Earth."

"Are you sure about that?" The Master leans into Graham, his voice inches from the human man's ear. "I have those folders, Graham-" The use of his name catches him off guard; it falls from the Master's lips like a purr from a cheetah chasing its prey. "-you can always take me up on my offer, it still stands, go and have a read of them, they are very intriguing."

Graham yanks himself away from the smirking Time Lord. "Tell me why you actually abducted me," He demands, growing tired of these games. "You said I'm not going back to Earth, and I said I wouldn't be able to get off this ship, so why? What is your game here?"

The Master rocks back onto his heels and huffs. "You and me are going to be friends."

"Somehow, I really doubt that."

The Master scoffs. "We were friends before or after or never or were; time is a flat circle, hard to keep track of."

"You tried to kill me and-" Graham cuts his first sentence off, when the Master's words register in his head. "What?"

"Before," The Master states again. "When you first met me, I didn't know you, the seventy years were-" His hand waves through the air. "-they hadn't happened, well, at least not yet, so I only knew you from your annoying attitude in the house."

"You mean your TARDIS."

"The one the Doctor stole from me," The Master whips around to Graham. "I liked that TARDIS, and she stole it, but the jokes on her because she gave me access to her friends instead, even let me feed them like the loyal pets you are," He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. "I fed you when you were this-" His right-hand whips out gestures at his hip. "-high."

"I don't remember you at all," Graham points out. "Why did you say you wanted Yaz instead when you spent time with me?"

"Hmm," The Master acts like he's thinking, leaving Graham hanging on to his question for an uncomfortable amount of time. "I guess you just won't know what the truth is, will you? Were you an accidental grab when I meant to get someone better, did I interact with you when you were a child, or, just throwing it out there-" His eyes linger on Graham, alight with madness. "-maybe I created you, made you into my own personal agent of chaos."

"You're mad," Graham keeps his fists clenched. He's stuck here with the Master, no way off this ship, no help around. Ryan will be worrying, he should've got home hours ago, and yet he hasn't. The lad will definitely phone Yaz, who will then relay it to the Doc, so maybe, just maybe, the Doctor will be able to-

"She can't track you," The Master answers Graham's unspoken thought. "I made sure of that; I don't need her taking away my prize."

The extent of his situation causes terror to blossom in his aching body. This could very well be it for him, and Ryan wouldn't even know; he'd just assume something terrible happened on Earth, he'll just think he's been left all alone again.

Graham turns his fear-filled eyes to the Master, and he's not above begging right now. He slips to his knees and stares up at the Time Lord. "Please-"

The Master cocks an eyebrow at Graham and folds his arms across his chest, waiting for the human man to say his piece. "Are you seriously begging?"

"Don't do this," Graham tries. "I get it, I do-" He stammers out, voice tripping over itself. "You're angry, filled with revenge, I don't know why, but I understand the need, the want-"

At that, the Master head tilts to the left while his arms drop to his side.

"-look, I wanted to kill the bastard who was responsible for the death of my wife," Graham explains desperately. "But I didn't; I decided to be the better man," He exhales the nervous breath coiled in his chest. "I chose to lock him away so he couldn't hurt anyone else ever again."

"Lock him away?" The Master repeats, curious by the choice of words used. "How?"

Graham blinks and brings his hands up, brows knitting together in thought. "He took people, locked them in these stasis things," His eyes locate the Masters again. "I did the same to him, put him in one of those things on this planet, no one can find him, people are safe from him."

"You locked a creature in a stasis chamber for eternity?" The Master recalls back at Graham eyes blinking in surprise at the brutality of it. "And what did the Doctor say?"

"She said I was the better man," Graham stands again, blissfully unaware that he's giving the Master precisely what he wants. "That I was strong for doing that, for not killing, for-"

"For finding a crueller way to administer justice?" The Master suggests with a glint in his eye. "You left someone in suspended animation with zero hope of rescue or escape, kept on the brink of life and death for eternity," He shakes his head and laughs, the sound full of amusement. "That's not merciful, that's cruel, you would've been kinder killing him."

"No," Graham shakes his head and stands. "I didn't have to-"

The Master reaches forward and pulls Graham up, his hand his face, and he angles it at a blank screen. "You locked a creature up-" They both stare at their reflections mirrored back at them. The Master filled with glee and hate and rage, and Graham with fear. "-and left it there to fester and waste away, never knowing the bliss of death." The Master throws Graham to the floor. "You're just as cruel as I am."

"I'm nothing like you," Graham snaps, finally losing his patience. "I'll never be like you-"

The Master exhales and rests his hands against his hips. "You're boring me now," He clicks his fingers again, summoning in two metal-clad warriors. "Take him to his room," He barks an order out, and soon enough, Graham finds himself yanked up from the ground by cold metal hands. "-I'll speak to him later when he decides not to be so boring."

"No, you know what," Graham struggles in the grip of the Cyber Masters for the little use that it would do for him and his situation. "I did what was deserved," He spits at the Master. "And so what?" His voice raises in anger. "Maybe that is a better justice for that bastard; eternity stuck thinking about the woman he murdered, my wife, yeah, I prefer the sound of that-"

The Master watches fervently as the human man is dragged from the room, kicking and screaming. He doesn't turn when a hidden door opens from the side.

"You got him then."

The Master blinks once and turns to face the newcomer dressed in black, eyes locked against their face. "Of course," He sneers at them. "Followed the instructions you gave me, which will be the only time I do it."

"Good," The stranger nods once. "Then you know what you need to do."

"You don't get to order me around," The Master glares at them when they turn their back; he strides forward and grabs them, yanking them around to face him. "What did it cost for you to do that? You betrayed everything that-"

"Like you wouldn't know what that feels like?" The stranger rips their arm free and matches the Master's expression. "But that's not your concern; it's mine and mine alone."

"What stops me from killing him now? That would ruin you and your Master's plans, wouldn't it?" The Master depends, his hand jabs towards the newcomer. "I could do it, never been one to follow the plans of others, not even my own when it comes to it."

"Nothing," The stranger responds. "But I won't let you do that; actually, I know you won't do that; I have the benefit of the future in my court," Their eyes dart to the door that Graham was pulled through. "He needs to survive what is coming."

"Him? Or you?" The Master pulls his hand back and doesn't stop the stranger from turning and leaving. "You know-"

"What?"

"You have a unique way of self-destruction," The Master smirks to himself when the man stalks away, his footsteps echoing until a rip in space-time cuts them off. "A very unique way."

The Master lazily walks back to his throne again and slumps into the seat, his head resting in his left hand while his right taps away on the armrest. "Why did you burn this planet?" He murmurs to himself as his eyes narrow.

He'll have to find the reason out, which means, unfortunately, he'll have to follow orders for once.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i play my hand too soon?
> 
> maybe
> 
> but it was intentional

_Sometime in the future..._

The loathing digs it's way to his core, well, what's left of it anyway. He's done many things recently, but bringing an innocent man into this, was a new low for him. Everything before wasn't a concern; he did what he did because he had to for the good of the universe, but that? He's sealed his fate, and now he's returning to his Master like a loyal dog, awaiting treats he'll never receive. He throws the vortex manipulator off his wrist and slumps down onto the nearest seat he can find, head resting in his hands in shame and regret.

How did it all come to this? But that voice, that-

_Necessity. Necessity. Necessity. Necessity._

Whispers in his head.

_Necessity. Necessity. Necessity. Necessity._

He could pull his mousy blond hair from his head from how tightly he's gripping onto it—clinging to it like it's a life preserver.

The vortex manipulator pings to his side, and he ignores it. Can't bear the thought of interacting with his controller, his puppeteer, his-

"Is it done?"

His _Master_.

He turns and faces the rogue Time Lord, fear creeping up his spine, fear that he squashes back down just as quick because he's too far gone to succumb to fear now. "You know it is; if it weren't, we wouldn't be here right now, would we?"

The Master claps his hands together and beams, excited and thrilled. He approaches him and rests his arm across his shoulder like they're old mates leaving a pub. "Knew I could rely on you, Upsilon, see? The Doctor-" He sticks his tongue out like he's spitting out the taste of a rotten pear. "-was right; having friends is great because-" He shoves a finger into Upsilon chest. "-they can do all the jobs you don't really want to do."

Upsilon pulls himself away from the Master; the praise means nothing to him. It never did; it just hollow, nothing but a sting in his empty chest. "I'm not your friend."

"No, you're not," The Master sighs before smiling. "You're practically my son, who would've thought? Us, father and son, working together-"

Upsilon bristles and clenches his hands into fists. "You're not that either," He mutters under his breath. "Never were, never will be."

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, my DNA courses through- oh wait, no, no, no, no," The Master leans in with an intense rage in his eyes, nostrils flaring with each hagged breath. "-it's the Doctor's DNA that courses through you, courses through me, taken from them unwillingly, and handed out-" He turns and stalks away, hands waving frantically. "-at least you proved yourself worthy for it, unlike them, unlike her-"

"Do you need me for anything else?" Upsilon interjects, taking risks with the man in front of him. "I did what you wanted, and I'd like to-"

"Do what?" The Master cuts him off, knowing this back and forth all too well for the pair of them. "Go home? You can't, not now, not ever, you made your choice, between her and me, and you picked me." His eyes are alight with passion; he's won this victory over her. "Me over family."

Upsilon stares back at the Master, meeting his eyes for a flash of a moment before darting them away, ashamed that he did. "I have things I need to do," He lies, pushing agency into his speech. "I'll catch you another time."

"Yes, yes," The Master waves him away like he's nothing more than a server in a restaurant. "Go and have some fun, destroy a few colonies of humans, that always perks me up, they breed like vermin, so it hardly matters that you wipe a few hundred or so out-"

Upsilon grinds his teeth, seething at the comment, but he says nothing, just turns and stalks away, his footsteps echoing down their shared TARDIS.

The machine reaches out to his mind, seducing him towards her, and he leans heavily into it, lives for the one touch he gets that is kind and loving in her own unique way.

Maybe this is how the Doctor feels with her own TARDIS; he can't help but wonder what the Master experiences with this TARDIS. She's not their first or second; who knows how many they had through the aeons.

But this is his first TARDIS; in a way, his actual first was one he could never hear. Didn't have the ability to do so.

"Lead me to my room," Upsilon whispers to the lonely walls. "The long way round, I need to think, and I can't do it with him goading me, not after today anyway."

And like he does for his Master, she dutifully follows his order like a good little soldier.

\----

As cells go, this is by far the nicest one Graham has ever been in; hell, it beats some of the B&B's he's stayed in. The bed isn't lumpy at all; there is a sturdy looking desk, a bookshelf with folders and books nestled away within it—an on-suite bathroom with all the works—even a television.

Honestly, Graham could try and persuade himself that he's staying in a posh hotel if it wasn't for the fact that he isn't staying in a posh hotel. None of this can be a coincidence; it's far too, uh, meticulously planned if he's thinking on the right track.

What is the Master's game here? One moment he's left them on a plane to die; another moment, he's sending Cyberdudes after them on a desolated planet, his planet to be precise, and now he's doing what exactly? Opening a premier inn on his TARDIS?

Graham runs his hands down his face and falls backwards onto his bed with a thud. He stares at the ceiling above and feels anxiety coursing through his tired old bones. He's far too old for this, has too many other worries to consider.

Like Ryan, that's a major one.

The poor lad is probably going crazy with worry. Graham can honestly believe that he'll never see him again; the Master was telling the truth there because he doesn't have the skills to get him out of this situation, and yeah, maybe the Doc would offer something encouraging, like a gold star or something to push him along. Still, in reality, he has no chance in hell of escaping.

Which is just bloody dandy, isn't it?

Oh, well, he supposes there is one pro about the entire thing.

And that's him. He was the one that the Master kidnapped from Earth, not Ryan, not Yaz, not even the Doc, no it was him, and as far as Graham is concerned? 

That's the silver lining to this mess he's been dragged into 'cos he'd do anything to keep them safe, and if that means he's going to be a plaything for a crazed alien, then so be it, he'll accept that and, well, he'll just hope that Ryan can move on quickly.

And that he won't grieve for long.

Graham shakes his head, refusing to give in to despair. Yeah, he might not have the skills needed to escape, but he is alive, and that means there is hope, hope that he'll be rescued, hope that anything positive will happen.

He stands from the bed and glances around his cell. There is no point in trying the door; the Master isn't stupid; it won't be as simple as that, but he can take a look through the heavily stacked bookshelf. 

Maybe there will be something there?

His feet take him over there, and Graham begins reading the books' titles, frowning at the subject themes. None of it is particularly, uh, promising. He reaches for one and yanks it free.

"History of Man-Made disasters?" Graham reads the title. "Lovely," He shoves it back into the slot he pulled it from and grabs another. "Why the Colony on Mars was Doomed to Fail and Were the Ice Warriors within their rights to Violently Defend their Home?" Is there even a colony on Mars? He picks another. "Torture For Dummies- Oh my days," Graham blinks, trying to get that image out of his head as he discards that book just as quick as he grabbed it. He foolishly selects one more, giving it a chance to be something-

"War Crimes 101: Know the Law and How to Evade It."

Graham throws the book down and decides that reading really isn't something he wants to be doing right now; maybe the television will be better?

Yeah.

It was not better because the first program that was on the box when Graham turned it on was about some war or something humanity had with another species.

And to further add to his problems, his attention is brought to a short four-beat knock at his door.

"Can I come in?"

Graham swears and glares at the locked door. "No."

"Oh, that's rude, did the Doctor not house train you?" The Master speaks the moment he lets himself in. "Ooooh-" He zones in on the television and settles himself next to Graham. "-what are you watching?"

"Nothing."

The Master rolls his eyes. "I can see that you are," He focuses on the screen and then smiles. "Oh, this is my favourite."

Graham pushes himself away from the Master. "Have you just come to wind me up again?"

"No," The Master lies, obviously. "I've come to invite you to dinner."

"If you think I'm gonna eat anything you give me, you have another thing coming."

The Master tilts his head at Graham and presses his mouth into a thin line. "Ah, but you have eaten food I've given you before." His hands move as he speaks, animated.

Graham looks away from the Time Lord. "Be honest, for once; what is the point in all of this?"

"Dinner?" The Master repeats like Graham is stupid. "You need food; I assume the Doctor fed her pets, and if I'm borrowing-"

"Kidnapping-"

"Borrowing-" The Master shoves Graham and shakes his head. "-you, then I need to feed you as well, well, I don't, I could always just convert you into a Cyberman, but compared to my Cyber Masters? You really wouldn't compete with them."

Graham walks away from the Master and begins heading towards his bathroom.

"Hey-" The Master strides after the ageing human, latching his hand into Graham's jacket. "Don't be boring, I'll happily eject you from my TARDIS and go and pick up that boy, maybe he'd be-" Graham turns around slowly. "-that has gotten your attention, hasn't it?" The Master grins devilishly. "Humans, so easy to find their weakness, so easy to push their buttons."

"Every time I refuse to do something, you'll threaten them, won't you?"

The Master screws his face up like he's thinking about the million-pound question that only needs a yes or no for an answer.

"You don't need to answer it because I know the answer," Graham states. That simmering anger surfaces again. "You'd do it because you can, because the Doc wasn't around when you took me."

"Not as stupid as you look."

"You're not as sly as you think you are," Graham retorts unthinkingly, regretting it the moment the Master's hand latches around his throat, driving him back towards the wall.

"I don't need you with a tongue," The Master spits in Graham's face, hair wildly moving with his motions of swarming anger. "And you don't need it either; I'll cut it out of your mouth-"

Graham struggles in the grip; he couldn't pull away even if he wanted to, which leads him to believe that all the times he did before was because the Master wanted him to think he could.

"Say you're sorry, and we can put this all behind us."

Graham seethes at the man holding onto him, breathing heavily when the hand is released from his throat. "Sorry," He says without meaning it, and he honestly doesn't care if the Master buys it or not. "I rather like my tongue, and I'd like for it to stay within my mouth."

The Master lowers his head and extends a hand towards Graham once again. "Look at what you made me do," He shakes his head. "Testing me, making me react, how does the Doctor put up with you lot?"

"She doesn't try to strangle me for one thing," Graham mutters, his left hand rubbing at his neck. "She also doesn't put those books in my room-" He gestures towards the bookcase. "-why would you think I would even read them?"

"This is your room," The Master spins in a small circle. "I didn't make this for you."

"What?"

The Master reaches forward, brows furrowing together when Graham leans away. He pulls back, giving the human space because pushing too much is the opposite of what he wants to do right now. "As I said, if you listened," He gestures around the room. "This is your room, the TARDIS made it for you, those books in that shelf are what you want to read-"

Graham shoots a baffled look at the Master, eyes blinking slowly. "Why do you think I want to read about how to commit war crimes and learn how to torture folks?

"Graham," The Master inclines his head to the right, mouth quirked in amusement. "I didn't think you were the type to partake in that-" He laughs and shakes his head, smirk turning into a wide grin. "-I'll remember to get you your first torture set for your birthday, my treat, to you."

"You put them there," Graham concludes because he knows he would never read a book like that, ever. "I might be what you think of as a 'lesser species', but I weren't born yesterday; I know what I like and what I don't like, and that crap in there is so far off my radar it's looping around to the other side."

"So, there's a chance you will read them?"

Graham opens and closes his mouth a few times and just sighs in frustration. "You said dinner," He decides to change the subject back. "I presume that's still on?"

The Master claps his hands together and nods. "We can continue this conversation over it, and-" He steps towards Graham and wraps his arm around his shoulder again. "-I want to pick your brain about a few things, don't worry, it's nothing about the two human children or the Doc-"

Graham grimaces and allows himself to be lead from his cell; whatever the Master has planned, he has a feeling he definitely won't like it at all.

\----

_Sometime in the future..._

The long way round did Upsilon good, gave him time to think, and now? He has some things in perspective. If he didn't do what he just did, then he wouldn't exist, and the things he and the Master have prevented would've happened, so as much as it settles within like a stone, perhaps it's a guilty conscience, he understands the sacrifice that had to be made. 

Either way, he's thankful he's made it back to his room. The one with the comfortable bed and no lumps, the well-stocked bookshelf with books and folders he's read more than once, his favourites being the first few he ever picked up since he arrived on this TARDIS.

When he enters, Upsilon leans against the door, breathes in the smell of home comforts before pushing himself from the doorway and heading towards the bookcase. His fingers dance across the well-worn spines of each book before coming to rest on one in particular.

It slides out easily, resting in his had like an old friend. The subject matter never applied to him, not until this day at least. Oh, the burning of a planet, a device that was meant to seed life, instead used to destroy it. Untraceable, any leads will go back to the species that created the device.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he should be horrified at what he did, but why should he? The Master has done it, the Doctor has done it, even Captain Jack has, so why can't he? It's not like the Stenza didn't deserve it; he's watched the programs, seen them commit atrocities, experienced them when one of them took his wife from him, leaving him and their grandson alone.

At least he got payback for that, and it was fun, years stuck in a stasis chamber. The hope of rescue, pulled onto a ship, allowed to breathe his freedom before being stabbed in the back, literally, and then turning around as the life began to leave his body, his eyes locked against icy cold ones.

_'Did you remember the name I told you to remember?'_

Taunting him just as the blue monster died, gasping for breath he never would get again.

Upsilon hand flips the book over, and he reads the title with a satisfied smirk because it wasn't lying when it taught him how to get away with a war crime, and somewhere, deep in his soul, he knew the books were placed here for a purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> i do have answers


End file.
